


Tell My Father

by NatTheSongbird



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Battle of Marlas, Gen, Last words, a brief appearance by Damianos, auguste still dies im sorry, inspired by a song that made me cry in public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatTheSongbird/pseuds/NatTheSongbird
Summary: Tell my father that his sonDidn't run or surrenderThat I bore his name with prideAs I tried to rememberYou are judged by what you doWhile passing through...----------Auguste's final moments at the Battle of Marlas.





	Tell My Father

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was inspired by a song the California All-State Men's Honor Choir performed when I was up there this weekend singing in the Mixed Choir called "Tell My Father" from the musical The Civil War. I suggest listening to the choir version instead of the solo, but either way, it's heartbreakingly perfect for Auguste. I cried in a church in front of strangers, then wrote this. Enjoy!

_Tell my father that his son_

_Didn't run or surrender_

_That I bore his name with pride_

_As I tried to remember_

_You are judged by what you do_

_While passing through_

 

_As I rest 'neath fields of green_

_Let him lean on your shoulder_

_Tell him how I spent my youth_

_So the truth could grow older_

_Tell my father, when you can_

_I died a man_

 

_Tell him we will meet again_

_Where the angels learn to fly_

_Tell him we will meet as men_

_For with honor did I die_

 

_Tell him how I wore the blue_

_Proud and true, through the fire_

_Tell my father, so he'll know_

_I love him so_

 

_Tell him how I faced the day_

_Just the way he taught me_

_Tell my father not to cry_

_Then say goodbye_

 

_\----------_

Auguste watched Damianos's retreating figure, bleeding onto the hills of Marlas. He was as good as dead, alone on a hilltop after being defeated in single combat. 

 

There had been a moment where Auguste had had the other prince disarmed and wounded, staggering back to his feet, and he had stayed his hand. Damianos was so _young._ He had let him pick up his sword and regain his balance. He had fought fairly and with honor.

 

He clung to that thought. He was dying, but it was better to die an honorable man, defeated fairly, than to live a cowardly one, alive because of a lesser man's trick for victory. 

 

The rhythm of hooves on grass grew louder; someone was riding up to the hilltop. To him. 

 

"Your Highness!"

 

A soldier. 

 

"Prince Auguste!"

 

One of his guard, perhaps?

 

" _Your Highness_!"

 

The voice was getting closer.

 

" _Auguste!!"_

 

He thought it might be Jord.

 

Sure enough, a familiar freckled face, looking too young to be above the bloody armor of a soldier, loomed into his view. Jord looked at his wounds, stricken, and closed his eyes for a moment. Auguste saw his lips form the words of a hasty prayer. 

 

Auguste had never been a religious man, but the thought of seeing his mother again was comforting as he felt himself slipping from the world.

 

"Your Highness," Jord was saying, kneeling over him. "We need to get you to a physician, the bleeding-"

 

Auguste shook his head, feeling the world spin as he did. "No," he managed. "I haven't got time."

 

Jord's brow furrowed. "There has to be  _something_ -"

 

"I am going to die," Auguste interrupted, feeling strangely calm. "There's no recovering from a wound like this."

 

Sure enough, he could see the red staining Jord's hands where he was trying valiantly to staunch the bleeding.

 

The pain was dizzying now.

 

"Tell my father," Auguste croaked, "That it was a fair fight, and that I fought with honor."

 

"He would rather hear it from you," said Jord desperately.

 

"It will be enough," said Auguste, gasping when Jord increased the pressure of his hands. "It will have to be enough."

 

"It is never enough for a father who just lost a son."

 

"Tell him my loss was for Vere's gain, so that she may grow older and prosper," Auguste forced out. "And... tell my brother I love him."

 

"I will, Your Highness," Jord said in a thick whisper, blinking back tears. "I give you my word."

 

"Thank you," Auguste said. He allowed his eyes to close, the darkness that had been at the edges of the world coming to swallow him whole. The pain of his wounds, the chills stealing through his body, and the prickle of grass at his back faded away until there was only soothing, weightless black and his mother's voice, welcoming him home.

 

\----------

 

It was like a star going out. So much light and strength and life, gone with a sigh. The prince went lifeless, heartbeat fading to nothing, and Jord forced himself to his feet. He ignored the tears tracing down his cheeks. 

 

Auguste was a good man, and a good prince. Vere would mourn the loss of her beloved golden son, especially so close on the heels of the queen's death. 

 

Jord walked slowly down the hill to the Veretian camp.

 

"Sound the horn," he told a soldier on guard. "The prince has fallen. Find the king; I need to tell him his son is dead."

 

The sounding of a horn boomed through the camp and echoed over the fields; a member of the royal family was dead. Soldiers in the camp and on the field stopped, looking around. 

 

On the edge of the camp, one of Auguste's banners flew off its post, the starburst being carried away on the wind. 

 

The order to fall back echoed down the lines. Waves of blue swarmed back to the camp among cheers from the lines across the field.

 

King Aleron, blood trickling down from his temple into his beard, galloped up to Jord on his white stallion.

 

"The horn sounded," he said. "Tell me, soldier--is it my son?"

 

_Tell my father it was a fair fight, and that I fought with honor._

 

Jord looked up into his king's face, his hands covered in the blood of a son gone too soon.

 

_Tell my father my loss was for Vere's gain, so that she may grow older and prosper._

 

"Yes, sire," Jord said. "It... it was a fair fight, and he fought with honor. He asked me to tell you that he died for Vere." The words were hollow in his ears and ashen in his mouth. The king closed his eyes for a long moment before drawing himself back up. 

 

"Where is he?"

 

"On the hilltop."

 

"Send his guard with a litter and bring him back so he can be buried with his family," he ordered.

 

Jord bowed deeply and made to leave, turning back toward the hill.

 

"Soldier," the king called after him. He halted and turned.

 

"Yes, sire?"

 

"My son was fond of you," he said. "You were there? At the end?"

 

"Aye, I was." Jord kept his hands behind his back, painfully aware of the blood on them. It would never fully wash out, he knew.

 

The king gave him a long look. "Then he died at peace. Bring his body back to us."

 

"Yes, Your Majesty," Jord said, bowing again and leaving.

 

As he walked away, the king dismounted and was met by a small, blonde figure running toward him. 

 

"Father! Where's Auguste?"

 

Aleron brought his youngest--now only--son into a tight embrace. He spoke too quietly for Jord to hear, but the scream and wailing that came after was all too audible.

 

_Tell my brother I love him._

 

**Author's Note:**

> ... sorry about that lol. Auguste is my baby and I have tons more writing he features in where that came from. If you liked it, please leave me a comment or kudos, and feel free to come yell at me on tumblr @nat-the-songbird !!


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